


Carving

by persephoneregina



Series: Tattoo AU [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Crush, Begging, Bottom Kim Geonhak | Leedo, Crack, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crush at First Sight, Dom Choi San, Dorks in Love, Edging, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Librarian San, Love, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Main Leedo/San, Men Crying, Past Relationship(s), Rimming, Romance, Side Youngjo/Hongjoong, Side Yunho/Keonhee, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Sub Kim Geonhak | Leedo, Sweet, Tattoo Artist Kim Geonhak | Leedo, Tattoos, Top Choi San, mention of previous relationship, past trauma, recovering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22720324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneregina/pseuds/persephoneregina
Summary: Of all the things San expected to happen to his relationship, being cheated on was the last one. Left with a broken heart and an awkward tattoo of his ex's name,he barges into Leedo's tattoo shop for a cover up and walks out with a new tattoo and a terrible crush.
Relationships: Choi San/Kim Geonhak | Leedo, Jeong Yunho/Lee Keonhee, Kim Hongjoong/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Series: Tattoo AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1706260
Comments: 21
Kudos: 92





	Carving

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my darlings!  
> Please accept this little AU as my Valentine's day present to all of you.  
> I know this is quite the rarepair and this makes me definitely nervous about posting it, but I hope you can spare these two adorable babies some love and make room for them in your hearts as well.  
> On this day, remember to celebrate love in all shapes, forms, colours and to remind your dear ones that you care for them.  
> As for myself, please remember that I love all of you and treasure every single one of you.  
> Happy Valentine's day!
> 
> PS. Please, if you may, leave a kudo and/or a comment, know that it would really mean the world to me, and for more stories and future prompts remember that you can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/persefoneregina)! <3

# Carving

Raindrops keep sliding down the bus’ window and the heat coming from the mouth of the boy, whose head is leaning against the glass, forms clouds of vapor that ulteriorly dull down the world.

The bus is almost deserted, there’s just a couple other people besides him.

He curls up and seeks for some warmth under his oversized, soft, rainbow sweater, while mindlessly shuffling through his playlist as no song seems to be fitting his mood. He hasn’t been that nervous in a long time and of course didn’t even expected to be: it’s not like he didn’t think this through very carefully for almost a year, and yet, now that he can finally find a solution the one that has been his nightmare for fourtyfive weeks, there’s a strange feeling of both anticipation and astounding fear clouding his mind. 

To only add more tension to the overall mood, he’s not even sure he’ll find the place he’s headed to open: he has been held at work for a lot more than he originally thought he would have, so the fear of not making it on time stack up on top of all the other emotions he’s been bottling up for so long and feels almost like the proverbial last straw that has him on the verge of tears.

He sniffs.

Then, as he rummages through his backpack, looking for a handkerchief, he looks up to the monitor and notices that they’re approaching his stop. Or at least, so does Google Maps say, even though technology really couldn’t be defined his most trustworthy ally. There’s something in his mind that just makes him dissociate from everything that is up to date, usually he would have planned his route at home, with the city map and the buses’ timetables at hands and a coloured pencil to track down his route, but today he didn’t have time to go back home and, strangely enough, the library where he works as a sales assistant has been quite crowded during the afternoon, so he has had to roll with the modern treachery, as he usually calls it.

The closer he gets to the stop, the more frantically he stuffs his things back in the backpack and manages to close its zipper with a forceful pull right before the doors open with a puffing sound.

The boy hops off and takes a look around himself: he’s not familiar with that neighbourhood.

He looks at his phone, but it’s of no help at all, then he looks around again, squinting his eyes, until, through the thin veil of rain, he sees his target: a bright red neon light at the corner of a crossroad, not too far from where he is standing, reciting _LEEDO’S TATTOO PARLOR_.

* * *

“Ok, ok, Youngjo… I’m going to need you to tell me the whole story again. From the beginning and in chronological order, if it’s not too much of a nuisance for your renowned rhetorical skills.” The buzzing of the tattoo machine forces him to talk way too loud for his own standards, even more so since the one wincing under his needle, telling him about the poorest and dumbest pick up attempt, is his best friend.

“Oh my God Geonhak again? ...Ok, well, I walked in on Friday while you were away for the Tattoo Artists exhibition because I knew you would’ve been away and so I could’ve made my move on Hongjoong… Don’t give me that look, Jesus Christ!” Youngjo starts his recap all over again, trying to dodge the judgmental glares that Geonhak serves him every now and then and biting his cheeks to hold in the pain from the needle carving his skin.

“What look?” The tattoo artist asks innocently, as if nothing were.

“ _That_ look, the _I told you_ look, the _you’re helpless_ look, because I. Do. Not. Need. It. Anyway, back to the story, I walked in and saw Keonhee being on the phone, all giggly and stuff. I asked if Hongjoong was free, he said yes and called him, so he came to greet me to the lobby and asked me why I was there and, God Geonhak, you had to see him, standing there, hand on his waist and hip pushed to the side in the most perfect curve, wearing that pair of black shiny leather pants, the ones with the studded harnesses around the thighs… I had been in front of him for three seconds rough and already had boner hard enough to carve a fucking swan out of an ice block, like, you know how those pants fit around his ass? It’s been like standing in front of a wet dream. So he asked how he could have helped me and no, before you ask me, I didn’t speak my mind. It came to a great cost, but I didn’t.” He goes on, but has to interrupt his narration because of the pain induced by the pulsations of the tattoo machine against his backbone.

“Oh really, you didn’t… Well how noble of you, how chivalrous, uh?” Geonhak teases him, as he goes back to the lines and fixes some minor details of the tattoo. “And what did you do, then?”

“I said I wanted to know if he had any time to do me a Prince Albert.” Youngjo spits out, rushedly. 

Geonhak abruptly interrupts his work and grabs Youngjo by the shoulder, forcing him to turn around. This time when he screams to his face it’s absolutely on purpose, and not because of the buzzing noise.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me, you did _what_ now?” He roars to Youngjo’s face, incredibly mad at how that fucker had had the audacity to walk into his shop and try to hit on his piercer, a piercer he had struggled for months to find and that he most definitely couldn’t afford to lose.

“Listen, I was there and he was standing in front of me, as hot as ever, with all that cake on full display hugged in those tights pants, the face of an angel with those big, bright, blue eyes staring right at me… My brain tilted, I didn’t know what to say, so I just spit out the first thing that came to mind!” At this point, Youngjo is just randomly gesticulating as he tries to explain his nonsensical actions. Geonhak pushes him back with the chest laying on the backrest of his professional leather chair, completely covered in cellophane, to go on with his work. 

“And you really thought that you could have impressed a professional piercer by asking them to do you a Prince Albert… Right?” He goes back to his job, disheartened at the mere thought of that whole mess happening right in his studio. “Well… How did it go? Did it hurt?” He ends up asking, eventually, lowkey worried about his friend.

“Like fucking hell. You don’t have the slightest idea.” Youngjo sighs.

“I mean that should’ve been expected, but did he do a bad job?” The other one can’t see him, but Geonhak is genuinely concerned about his piercer’s job. What if he actually hurt him? What if he was having a reject? That’s not just any other spot for a piercing, it’s possibly the most delicate and precious one for a man, so for as paradoxical as this whole situation is, he needs to make sure everything went smoothly.

“What? No, of course not, he did a great job and honestly I thought that getting that kind of piercing would’ve been a nightmare! For as unbelievable as it might seem, I wasn’t talking about my dick, I was talking about my ego and feelings. I mean… I walked into the room, laid back on the bed and he asked me to take off my underwear, so I thought _hey, what a perfect occasion to be the smooth motherfucker I am_ , and asked him if he didn’t mean to take me out for a drink first-”

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST YOUNGJO!” Geonhak screams, completely appalled by the unprecedented level of stupidity of it all. _Nevermind, he’s just hopeless, no point in worrying about his health at all_ , he thinks.

“I WAS TRYING TO BE FUNNY! And maybe I really want to go out with him ok? Maybe I really like him and not only his juicy peaches or his supple lips. Maybe I really mean to be a keeper with this one. But I guess it doesn’t matter since he literally manhandled my dick with his pretty, tiny hands for almost fifteen minutes and didn’t even flinch, you know? He sat there, with my massive, hard, huge d-” 

“Ok listen I’mma stop you RIGHT THERE. I literally can't even list all the things you've done wrong, people usually have at least a date before showing out their dicks, you reversed all the steps Youngjo, like, what's not clicking? Also, _also_ , he’s a professional, experienced, seasoned piercer with years of work in the field at his back, what did you expect him to do? To get teary-eyed as soon as you showed him your cock? He only did what he was asked, and honestly, had I been him, I wouldn’t know if I would have complied to your request.” It takes Geonhak a great deal of effort to not snap his best friend’s head off on the spot, but then again patience is a virtue he has needed to cultivate to properly do his job at the top of his faculties, so right now he’s just pretending to have to deal with a very dumb client and behaves accordingly. “Moreover…”

“What now?” Youngjo answers, with an annoyed sigh of surrender, mentally processing the acceptance of the whole mess he’s made.

“...If you really mean to be a keeper maybe you should give your next attempt, because we both know that this episode where you really looked like shit won’t stop you, a little more thought. There’s many better ways to show Hongjoong your dick, hyung, you know?” Geonhak suggests, calmly, through his teeth, while trying to stay as collected as he can.

“What do you mean, are you trying to suggest that you have shown him yours already? Geonhak I called dibs on him the moment I saw him!” The other one retorts, almost furious, and clearly misunderstanding every word that has come out of his friend’s mouth.

“Of course not! You should know that first he’s definitely not my cup of tea, and secondly I would never, and I cannot stress _never_ enough, have a relationship on my workplace. I’ve got principles. And I’ve got a very specific type when it comes to-” Geonhak doesn’t manage to finish his phrase as he hears a loud clamor coming from the lobby, while he’s busy applying a thin layer of vaseline on top of his finished work on Youngjo’s back and covering it up in plastic wrap. “There you go, hold up, I’m going to check out what’s going on there.” He says, with a low voice, slightly worried, as he walks out of his room.

When Geonhak reaches the lobby of his studio, he’s invested by an incredibly loud and heated discussion between his secretary, Keonhee, and the one that seems to be a client.

“Listen up, I don’t care if you are friends with my boyfriend, I can’t make you meet Geonhak because we’re already closed, if you want to I can get you an appointment for next month and then you will discuss everything with him. That’s the best I can do, otherwise there’s plenty of tattoo shops where you can go.” Keonhee must be struggling since his voice sounds exhausted and tired, like he must have been telling that guy this whole line for at least half an hour.

“But I can’t wait one more month, please, I’m begging you! This is bad, this is actually so bad, I can’t take it anymore… There must be something that can be done, as soon as he’ll see what’s going on he will surely understand… I only need ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking for!” 

Geonhak remains silent for a few seconds, staring at the potential client who has been bothering Keonhee, because for as much as he seems to have been a colossal pain in the ass for his friend, he is just… _perfect_.

From the glossy blonde hair to the shiny, blue eyes, from the faint pink hue on his cheeks to the way his lips curl as he speaks, from his small yet masculine frame to the way he moves, slowly and wavy like a feather floating in the air, everything about that young man is captivating and endearing at the same time, and there’s a halo of sweetness surrounding him that just makes Geonhak give up on his initial purpose to kick him out.

“What’s going on in here?” He says, instead, as professionally as he can but without taking his eyes off from the handsome boy, whose cheeks instantly get flushed with an intense blush.

“Ah, Geonhak, I’m sorry if we have disturbed you. This… person over here says he needs to talk to you, and I have tried to explain to him that this is beyond closing time, but he just doesn’t want to listen to-” Keonhee proceeds to explain, with a distressed expression on his face, giving away the sense of relief that his presence must have given to him.

“It’s ok, Keonhee, I’ll sort this out. I’ll handle it. You can go change and clean up my studio, I’ve just finished with Youngjo… Oh, and before he goes, make sure he pays for the tattoo, this time, and hand him a free tube of panthenol.”

As soon as Keonhee happily hops out of the room and heads to the changing room of the studio, Geonhak turns around towards the client and can’t help but smile, endeared, at how cute and soft he looks, while standing there, head reclined on one side, eyes looking down, as he fidgets with the white, heart shaped ribbons of his pastel rainbow cardigan, and dangles from one feet to the other.

“Now, to business. Since you wanted to see me so eagerly… What can I help you with?” He asks in the sweetest way that his naturally deep and quite intimidating voice allows him.

The boy suddenly lifts up his head, looks at him right into the eyes with a determined glare and pulls down his jeans with one harsh movement, until they sit right on top of his private parts, and then says with the strongest tone he can pull off: “I need to fuck.” 

Those words hit Geonhak like an avalanche, as he shakes his head trying to pull himself back together from the sudden shock and sorts out his thoughts, not really daring to look _that_ spot, but then a last drop of professionalism saves him and forces him to direct his attention on the boy’s body, so he finally understands. 

In the middle of his hipbones, right above his crotch, stands a poorly executed tattoo reciting, in a terrible lettering, a male name, surrounded by little hearts.

“I have been having this _thing_ here, maiming my body, for over a year. It’s my ex boyfriend’s name. Today it’s been forty five weeks since I caught him cheating on me, in my own bed, and I know I should have booked an appointment, I know it’s late and I even know that you’ll probably kick me out in no time because, let’s be honest, this isn’t any of your business and I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this, but today I finally got the last money I needed, after saving up for months, to pay for a decent cover up and I couldn’t help myself from running over here after crossing the city just to ask for your help… I need your talent, so desperately, because I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I am reminded of how much he hurt me and of all the heartache I have gone through. I can’t hook up with any guy, because that would mean showing them this monstrosity. I can’t wear a crop top or go to the beach or to a spa without having everyone’s eyes on me, and not because of how I look, but because of what I have on myself. On the worst days I’ve had horrible thoughts, involving this tattoo and a razor blade. What your colleague said is true: I could just have gone to any other studio, but my friend Yunho, Keonhee’s boyfriend, suggested that I came here because of how great you are. You’re the only one I’ve heard of that won’t actually make it worse… And believe me, if I wasn’t this desperate, I wouldn’t be begging in front of you, because if you knew me even the slightest bit, you’d know I’m not someone who begs, but I mean it when I say that I can’t go on like this anymore. So, please, Geonhak, help me.” The boy’s voice gets more feeble and broken as he speaks and his eyes get filled up with tears that begin to roll down on his flushed cheeks, so Geonhak walks up to him and instinctively wraps him in his arms, letting him cry against his chest and wetting his t-shirt with his warm tears. He doesn’t let go, not even for a second, until the unknown boy stops crying and Geonhak can loosen up his hold to offer him a tissue and wait for him to dry his face, only to greet him with a gentle, endeared expression.

“Come on, let’s see what we can do. We can check out some of my designs and see if there’s something fitting, what do you say?” He points the sofa and gestures to the boy to make himself comfortable, while he grabs a big, black binder and places it on his thighs, after sitting down next to him.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Geonhak asks, with the warmest smile.

“San. My name is San.” He says, smiling back for the first time ever since he has stepped into the studio.

An awkward silence haloes among the two of them, while the tattoo artist tries to focus on his drawings and not on San’s sharp profile or on the way he mindlessly bites his lips or on the way his whole face glows up when he looks at one of his drawings and points at it, suddenly enlightened with the purest, most genuine form of joy he has ever seen on anyone.

“This. I want this. Do you think it would suit me?” San asks, with a sheerly shy nuance in his voice.

Geonhak looks at it: it’s a drawing for a realistic, black and white, floral tattoo. He remembers thinking, while drawing that design, that he would have wished to do something so challenging and detailed on a person who would have deeply deserved to have it.

“Yes. I think it would look marvellous on you.” He answers, feeling a grip to his heart and a sudden flutter in his stomach, feelings which he tries to kill on the spot, but that somehow manage to get around his rationality and nestle up in the back of his mind, as he stands up, closing the binder with a loud sound and placing it on top of the desk where Keonhee usually sits to work, and walks towards the door of his workroom.

“So, uhm, don’t you want to finally quit with this tattoo?” 

Geonhak takes a second to fully savor the way San’s expression shifts on his face from hope to shock, to confusion, to incredulity, to realization, to absolute happiness, and in his mind he replays in slow motion the whole procession of how his jaw dropped open and his eyes grew bigger, how he brought his hands to his face, suffocating a loud gasp of surprise, how then his whole face lit up with a heavenly glow of happiness, as his eyes turned into crescents when the biggest smile unfolded his lips.

“Come on, let’s do this!” Geonhak holds the door open for San to walk in with a cheerful strut and begins to sterilize the cot before letting him lay down on top of it.

Eventually, when San takes off his soft sweater and pulls down his jeans and boxers, just above his groin, and Geonhak is about to turn on his tattoo machine, after preparing everything to begin to work, he feels a faint grip around his exposed forearm. When he turns around, his eyes meet San’s ones, glassy and trembling ever so slightly under the cold neon light. For the first time ever since he’s first laid his eyes on him, he can see he’s scared and has to make an effort to remind himself that he cannot hold his hand now.

“Is it going to hurt?” Whispers San, with quavering voice.

“I can’t promise it won’t -Geonhak says, in all honesty- But I can promise you this: I’ll make sure to do my very best to make it worth it. Just look at this pain as a part of a rebirth ritual. Through this momentary pain, you are going to begin to take back control over your body and your life. Pain always bears a lesson for us to learn. Of the many types of pain one can experiment in life, the one induced by this kind of tattoos, in my opinion, is one of the very few ones worth enduring from beginning to end. It’s almost an act of meditation, it’s philosophical: you are born to live a life that depends on your decisions, and likewise you are born in a body that will be shaped by your decisions as well. Everything we do, from sleeping, to eating, to exercising, to getting tattoos, and so on, is a self affirmation act. We don’t put much thought into that, but it actually is, we’re constantly making choices that affect our life and the way we settle into it. What we’re doing here tonight is helping you be born anew, by getting rid of a physical scar corresponding to a moral pain, in order to allow you to fully heal from trauma. Unfortunately, I can’t use any anesthetic cream on you, since it dims down the saturation of the ink, and that is essential for cover ups, but if you’re struggling and you can’t take it any longer, we can take a break. If you feel like you’re about to faint, if you feel any form of dizziness or lightheadedness, nausea, numbness, or any symptoms such as tachycardia, excessive sweating, respiratory distress, et cetera, please let me know. Understood?”

San answers with a nod of his head, before laying it down on the cot’s headrest and breathing out a deep sigh.

“Geonhak?” the boy calls for his attention once more. Normally, he would have been bothered, but with him he can’t bring himself to find it annoying. If anything, it’s _adorable_. 

“Yes?”

“...Thank you. I came here looking for an artist. But I wasn’t expecting to find so much more than that.” San’s voice is sweet and, though he cannot understand how or why, his words feel like a warm caress gently fondling on Geonhak’s soul. 

Thankfully he’s wearing a mask, he thinks: it allows him to be a blushing, giggling mess without the pretty boy knowing.

After six, exhausting hours of work on the cover up, Geonhak is almost done. 

To his surprise, San has been handling the process extremely well: he only seems to have had a hard time when he was working in the very proximity of his hipbones and on the lower part of his abdomen, as expected, but besides a few whimpers and muttered growls, San has really been the ideal client, thing which, goes without saying, Geonhak was not expecting.

Geonhak takes his time to add some final shades and depth to the points that need it the most and then moves to the highlights, meticulously checking out his work before proceeding to the following spot. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks San, every now and then, to make sure that he’s still lucid and responsive. “Take a sip of that -he adds, pointing at the sports drink he prepared for him earlier on- I don’t want you to get dehydrated or to have a sudden lack of sugar.”

San complies, offering, in return, the absolutely cutest giggle to a stunned Geonhak, which makes his heart do a weird thing, almost like a tumble. Almost like falling. Falling for him.

As he fights those kind of thoughts, he begins to wipe the area and applies some ointment, but right before bandaging him, he feels San begin to tremble and instantly raises his gaze to look at him.

“San?” He asks, but gets no answer. “San? Do you hear me?” 

Geonhak quickly wraps the freshly made tattoo and rushes to check on San, who is laying down, unconscious. He must have fainted. It’s not the first time something like that happens to a client, but for some reasons this time he’s not able to stay as lucid and collected as he usually does: for some seconds, his mind goes blank, perhaps because he’s tired as well, perhaps because he actually cares, it takes him a great deal of force of will to escape the mental blackout and to act accordingly to the emergency situation.

Geonhak mentally curses himself for not forcing him to eat something before they began their session: _this wouldn’t have happened_ , he tells himself, _if I had been my usual self. If I hadn’t gotten all happy and excited. If I had stayed rational and professional_.

Once he establishes that San is not having a seizure, something in his heart relaxes and he experiences an unprecedented sensation of relief determining that he has _only_ fainted: that’s something he is prepared for.

First of all, he places one hand under the boy’s nape, lifting him up and letting San’s head rest against his chest, then, holding a wet towel impregnated with cold water with the other hand, he begins to dab all over San’s forehead, eyes and neck, until, with huge relief on Geonhak’s behalf, he regains consciousness.

“Hey there, you really decided to scare me shitless, uh?” Geonhak softly says, with a relieved smirk, while his eyes indulge and treasure every second of San’s awakening, his fluttering eyelids, the way his mouth pouts after yawning, his little nose scrunches, the sleepy, dazed look in his irises and, last but not least, how he nuzzles his head against Geonhak’s chest, thing which makes his heart desperately race, completely out of control.

“Are you tired?” the tattoo artist whispers, receiving a lazy nod from San as an affirmative answer.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, shall we?” Geonhak tries to say, but in that very moment San grabs his t-shirt with one hand, as hard as he possibly can with the few forces he has in himself, and pulls it, getting Geonhak to look at him.

“But this is already comfortable…” San whines, in a drowsy yet melodious mewl.

For as much as Geonhak would love to stay like that, holding San to his body, feeling his warmth and having his chypre and vanilla perfume lingering all over his clothes, he’s well aware that he cannot just stand there cradling him in his arms.

He gently picks him up in his firm embrace and, with extreme delicateness and care, he carries San into the lobby, slowly leaning him down to rest on the leather sofa and placing a warm, soft, fuzzy throw over his body to prevent him from catching cold. As soon as he turns around and pulls out his phone from a drawer of Keonhee’s desk, where he leaves it before starting to work first thing in the morning, he hears San moving under the blanket and making an almost purring sound. His heart, once more, clenches under an indomitable feeling of fondness, while a sudden warmth sets his chest on fire and puts his cheeks aglow. 

_I’m so fucked_ , he thinks, as he can’t contain a bittersweet smile and surrenders to the irrational urge to caress San’s cheek, with an unreally light touch, as if he would want to let that moment hang between reality and dream, incapable to choose where he wants his feelings to stand. 

He gets a little further, towards the entrance to his shop, and eventually notices the time: it’s almost 2 a.m., so he fidgets with his phone for quite some time before he finds a restaurant open for a delivery. Geonhak sighs: it’s going to take the food half an hour to arrive, but he can’t do otherwise.

He sits down on the ground, right next to the sofa, and finally relaxes, pushing his head back at a few centimeters away from San’s face.

The boy’s warm breath laps his neck, tickling him.

Geonhak turns around to bask in the beauty of the sight of San being asleep and then, after a few instants of reluctancy, he feels brave enough to raise a hand and to dare to touch his silky blonde hair. Before he knows, he finds his hands surrendering to the temptation of indulging on San’s soft locks, moving down to meet the dreamlike smoothness of his skin, following down the curve of his cheekbones, tracing with his fingertips the sharp line of his jaw, and eventually hesitating in front of those rosy lips.

 _What do I think I am doing?_ He questions, severely coming to his senses, but there’s no time for that: the studio’s doorbell rings and he rushedly has to get up: the delivery boy has arrived with their food and it’s time to wake up San.

They eat together, sitting on the lobby’s parquet, and time flies, while the conversation gets more and more playful and familiar, as it usually happens with late night conversations, when the gentle mantle of darkness seems to favour intimacy, complicity, depth, and Geonhak and San quickly slide into a spiral of storytelling, laughing, and secretly eyeing each other.

Talking to San feels like the most natural thing in the world: he’s just like the sea, he talks in waves of phrases, that calmly slide one into the other, in perfect concatenation, and his voice is as hypnotic as a siren’s song, capturing all of Geonhak’s attention and flooding his mind with pictures from his stories of places he’s never been to, of people he has never seen, of tears he hasn’t dried and kisses he hasn’t received, all so vivid and yet so painfully unreal.

San is like the sea, and Geonhak can’t help but wanting listen to the sound of him speaking for hours and hours, forgetful of any duties, of any responsibility, of any deontology, progressively making more and more room for the rising of whatever feeling San’s presence has been evoking deep within him. He knows this is the most nonsensical, stupid, absurd and hopeless thing to allow happening.

But San is like the sea. And Geonhak, ultimately, wants to drown. 

* * *

  
  


The following week goes on extremely slowly for San.

After getting the tattoo, his mind has been clouded by sudden reminiscences of the one that, he is pretty much sure, must have been something like a lucid dream.

The one spent with Geonhak, to him, has been the most therapeutic time he’s had in a long while, and it has come with a great deal of reflection on his behalf, about how lucky he has been to find someone who would actually care about him so much, who would be so selfless to stay with him until late, working hard to give him something so precious and beautiful as the masterpiece that is currently healing on his abdomen, and be so generous to treat him for dinner and taking him back home in order to not make him take a bus back home at such a late hour. He hides between the bookshelves, at work, storing back the books slower than usual, just to let his thought linger in the sweet memories of that night, mentally fondling the images of Geonhak’s face. San is quite sure that he didn’t notice how much he was staring at him, taking mental pictures of him, of his expressions, of how candidly emotions showed up on his face in a sequence of concentration, stupor, joy, concern, endearment, pensiveness. He runs back through each frame his eyes have captured, without any specific purpose if not that of daydreaming, and dwells into the black depth of his intense eyes, the small blossom of his red lips contrasting the astounding fairness of his skin, slips along the sensuous lines of his built body, traces the lines of his tattoos, chasing the shapes of the drawings going from his fingers up, all along the muscles of his arms, to his broad shoulders, and eventually blushes at the thought of how he felt when he had his head against Geonhak’s chest. Of that sense of safety. Of protection. Of belonging. Without even noticing how or why, the closer he gets to his check up appointment, the more nervous he gets at the only possibility of having his hands touching him again. San cannot even remember when was the last time he has been touched by another man. Him and his ex had stopped having sex a long time before breaking up, even the cuddling didn’t come spontaneous anymore and for as much as he might have needed it, San hated to ask. _We’re undergoing a lot of stress, with the moving and the new work_ , he thought, _it’s only natural, things will fix themselves_. But for as much as he kept lying to himself, things never got fixed. If only, they got worse. He should have known. But he didn’t. And now there he is, struggling to overcome the trauma of that past relationship and pushing away those haunting memories of the most excruciating pain he has ever felt, trying to make room in his life for healing and growth and blushing like a schoolboy at the idea of meeting Geonhak again.

All of a sudden, the door of the small bookshop where he works as a librarian opens up with a ring of the bell placed on top of its frame.

“Hello? Sanie?” Ah, it’s the voice of one of his dearest friends, Yunho, who has come to pick him up.

“Hyung! I’m here, hold on a second!” San says, putting away the last few books he still has in his hands and reaching Yunho at the entrance of the shop. “Sorry to have kept you waiting, today we’ve had a big delivery of new entries and it got quite busy.”

“No problem, it’s only been a minute! -Yunho says with his usual welcoming smile- Shall we go? Are you ready?”

“Yes, let me just pick up my backpack and coat.” San answers as he swiftly walks to the back of the shop to retrieve his items, coming back after a few seconds with an awkward smile on his face, trying to hide the devastating pit in his gut and to stay calm.

Yunho and him have quite a small talk during the car ride to Geonhak’s shop, until he suddenly brings up the subject of the day.

“So, did you like him?” He questions with the cheerful and slightly self complacent tone of someone who knows he’s right even before hearing the answer to his question.

“I, uh, what?” San mutters, dumbfounded, as the glow on his cheeks speaks for him.

“Did you like him. Geonhak.” Yunho stresses on his words, speaking louder.

“Oh, well, he has done a very neat job and he has been very nice and caring to me… So uhm… I guess yes. But I bet he’s nice and caring to all of his clients, Yunho, so no biggie really.” San looks away, out of the car’s window, mindlessly hovering with his gaze over the city’s landscape enveloped by the purple light of the falling dusk.

“Keonhee told me you had dinner together… And no, it’s not because Geonhak let anything slip, he just saw the food packagings in the trash as he was taking it out and figured that it was definitely way too much food, even for him.” Yunho impels on the subject, raising an eyebrow as he gives a careful glance at San, as if he were looking for a reaction of some sort.

“As I said, he has been very caring and, since I had fainted, he bought food and took me home because he was afraid I could have gotten sick on my way home…”

“He took you home? _Geonhak_ ? He really took you home with his legendarily and renownedly _untouchable_ Harley? The one where he hasn’t allowed even his best friend to go on a ride with him?” Yunho says in an unnecessarily dramatic and shocked tone, while San thanks whatever divine entity might be existing for making them arrive in front of the Tattoo Parlor in that very moment.

“I guess? I don’t know Yunho, and please, don’t do this to me. I’ll just admit it before we walk in, ok? I like the guy. A lot. I like that much that I have seen until now, I like the way he looks, I like the way he thinks and I like the way he seems to have a very stable and firm moral compass. But don’t make me believe that what he did for me was in any sort of way special-”

“Sanie…” His friend interrupts him, holding his arm to stop him from hopping off of the car and giving him a regretful, puppy-eyed look.

“It wasn’t special, Yunho. It was not special because I am not special.” San says, his voice streaked by melancholy and bitter resignation, while he forces a painful smile to shut down the argument and delicately pulls his arm out of Yunho’s loosened up grip.

When they arrive in front of the door, Yunho gives him one more apologetic look before pushing the door open and holds it for San to walk in, then follows him inside and greets his boyfriend, Keonhee, with a wide smile.

“Hey there, baby bunbun!” Yunho almost screams running towards Keonhee as he lifts him up in his strong embrace and makes him twirl through the other’s excited and joyful cries.

“Hello handsome! How is my sunshine?” Replies Keonhee, rubbing the tip of his nose against Yunho’s and planting a light, sonorous peck on his lips.

“Unspeakably, gloriously, desperately happy now that I see my little vanilla cupcake! And, look, I have something for you…” Yunho rummages through his leather satchel, pulls out a paper bag that smells like frosting sugar and spices and hands it to Keonhee, whose jaw drops as soon as he opens it up.

“I can’t believe it, you really bought me cinnamon rolls! I _love_ cinnamon rolls!”

“You _are_ a cinnamon roll!” Meticulously points out Yunho, winking at his boyfriend before cupping his cheeks and kissing him back.

“Uhm, sorry to interrupt your quality time, guys, but, before you go on calling each other with all the names that can humanly come to mind when checking out a patisserie’s counter, we’re actually here because I need Geonhak to check out how is my tattoo healing…” San barges in, without even trying to refrain his natural sass, before entering a diabetic coma at the sight of the two lovebirds cooing, to escape the annoying third wheeling situation.

In a fraction of a second, just the time for an eyeroll, Keonhee pouts, annoyed, lifts up the phone receiver, presses a couple buttons and speaks: “Hey, your checkup is here. Can I let him in? Uh-uh. Yep… What, why?... Yep, ok, whatever... You’re the boss. Ok, so can- Ok, ok, I got it.” He hangs up with a loud sigh and then looks at San.

“Follow me, he will see you now.” Keonhee says, making way for him and knocking of the familiar door of Geonhak’s workroom.

“Come in!” The familiar, deep voice of the tattoo artist calls from the inside. 

That’s when Keonhee leaves and San, with a trembling grip, turns the doorknob.

When he walks in, he is greeted with a strong hug and a warm smile by Geonhak, who seems to be in a lot brighter mood that day, maybe because he hasn’t had to work as much, maybe because it has been a good day for him… San doesn’t know and, in all honesty, doesn’t dare to ask.

“Hello, San! How are you doing?” Geonhak’s voice has an unmistakable masculine, low tone, but at the same time there’s a softness to it, a graciousness, that makes San wish to talk to him more just for the sake of hearing it.

“I’m doing ok, I guess… I’ve been taking care of the tattoo really carefully and I haven’t had any issues, except for the itchiness. No fever or irritations or swelling.” San answers, feeling for some reason the need to flaunt his diligence, like a child wanting to be patted on his head by his favourite teacher.

“Very well! Do you mind if I take a look?” Geonhak politely asks, pointing his cot to San.

“Of course, I mean, that’s what I came here for.” For this, and for you, he would like to add, but thankfully he manages to bite his tongue before saying something like that. He doesn’t really need to embarrass himself even more to Geonhak’s eyes, not after having basically introduced himself to him by saying _I need to fuck_.

San lays down on the cot and pushes his clothes out of the way to allow the artist to actually look at his tattoo’s healing process.

Geonhak puts on a steryl mask, pulls a brand new pair of gloves and starts his examination: he lightly brushes his fingertips on his skin, with an intensely focused expression on his face, and mutters a series of “Very good” and “Nice” to himself, as he travels with his fingers along the whole interested area with surgical care and attention, inspecting every inch and making sure he doesn’t overlook anything.

Nonetheless, in the meantime, San is somewhere else with his mind: instead of discomfort, he feels a pleasant tingling sensation spreading from his abdomen, to his hip bones, to his groin. He gets goosebumps and flares from the delicate touch of that dangerously handsome looking man, and the more his hands linger onto him, the more violently he feels an ancient flame setting him on fire from the inside out.

Though the situation should be anything but erotic, San needs to bite his lower lip and to clench his fists so hard that his nails dig into the soft flesh of his palms, in order to prevent the irredeemable from happening down under.

“It looks great, you’ve done a very good job! I don’t think you’ll have any issues with it. Just keep on doing the same procedure you’ve done until now for another week, ten days at most, and then you will be surely able to consider it healed.” Geonhak says, happily and openly satisfied with the result of his work, throwing away the mask and gloves while San gets back up and carefully fixes his clothes, unwillingly.

 _This can’t be all,_ he tells himself. _I don’t want this to be all_. 

Then, an idea lights up in his mind, and the desire to see Geonhak again is definitely way too strong to think of anything cleverer.

“Do you think I could come back and have you check it out once more? You know, just to be sure…” San knows he must probably look pathetic, but something inside of him gives him the courage to give that unyielding glimpse of hope glimmering deep down his heart a shot. He knows it makes no sense, he knows it’s foolish to follow that helplessly romantic instinct of his, he knows he’s not special. He knows he’s not enough for anyone, let alone someone like, well, _him_. His former boyfriend wasn’t half as good looking and yet look what he did to him, so why would he realistically have any chance with Geonhak?

“Yeah, of course you can! Actually, you’re my last appointment for the day, so I am going straight home now, but… if you’re not… uhm… Busy or have anything planned…You know... If you need some more directions and… Maybe… Have some questions about, I don’t know, a correct maintenance and stuff, we, I mean, I... I have some spare time. Lots of it.” 

San observes, with marveled, wide open eyes, mouth agape and constantly struggling to choke the nervous giggles rising in his throat, the adorable scene of that heavenly handsome, godlike built, covered in tattoos, fairly intimidating, edgy looking, six feet tall man awkwardly stutter in the attempt to try to ask him out for dinner, like there was a chance he would say no. like his heart hasn’t been hammering in his throat from that very morning at the mere thought of being able to see him again, let alone having the chance to go out with him.

“I happen to have a lot of spare time, too -San says, with the brightest smile he has had on his face in over a year- And I happen to be really hungry, so I’d love to go out for dinner with you. At one condition, though. This one’s on me.”

San raises his gaze all the way up to meet Geonhak’s incredulous eyes, staring right into them, until he sees him blush and shy away, hiding his face with the excuse to put on his leather jacket hanging on the coat rack against the wall. _My God_ , he thinks, fondly, _he’s adorable_.

“Shall we, then?” Geonhak asks, gallantly holding the door open for San, a gesture that no one has ever been so gentlemanly to do for him and which he wholeheartedly appreciates.

While Geonhak is busy locking his workroom, San steales a few more mental shots of him: him lowering his head and shaking it in joyful disbelief, the way one of the corners of his lips is lifted up in an unconscious smile, the vivacious light in his eyes he’s had ever since he told him he would have loved to go out with him. Geonhak is like the sun: wherever he is, whatever he does, even the silliest thing, he naturally attracts him and makes him wish to bask in his mere presence. The more he looks at him, the more San feels his heart ablaze and the heat of emotion spreading like wildfire all throughout his quivering body. 

Geonhak is like the sun. A part of San feels happy, even eager, to burst in the attempt to get closer to him. But in the back of his mind, he can’t seem to able to kick away the crippling shade of trauma, trying to eclipse said happiness with the reminder that, last time, he ended up sorely burnt.

  
  


Before heading to the restaurant, the two of them go for a long stroll in the park.

San doesn’t really know what to do, if he is expected to say or do something in particular: it’s been too long from the last time he has gone on a date, and the more he thinks about it, the more he gets stiff and awkward.

He occupies his time looking at Geonhak, trying not to get caught as he secretly admires him.

After a while, they find a sunny spot under an oak tree and agree to sit down under it, to bask in the sun and just enjoy the view of the park.

It doesn’t last long, though, because Geonhak suddenly lays down on the grass, with his eyes closed, heaving a relieved breath as soon as his head rests on the freshly cut grass. As for himself, San doesn’t know what to do. He sits there, contemplating him, wondering what would happen if only he were crazy enough to bend over and… _What the hell am I thinking?_ He severely scolds himself for only even wondering such thing.

“So, how did that whole disaster happen?” Geonhak asks, turning his eyes towards San, who is shaken and brought back to reality by his voice.

“Well… I guess the story is pretty much the same as most of the ones of other clients coming to you with horrible tattoos: alcohol and bad decisions.” San says, hinting a smile with one corner of his lips, even though he clearly isn’t amused in the slightest: he lowers his gaze and takes a few steps dangling next to Geonhak, trying to sort out his thoughts.

“We, or at least I, were very in love. We had just moved together in my flat and went out to celebrate because, you know, it felt like a very special milestone. It sure did for me… God, I was so stupid…” San has to look away, clearly pushing back the tears, feeling like an idiot: he’s out with the first man he has been interested in in a long time and there he is, on the verge of crying because of his ex.

“I don’t think you were stupid. You did something very sweet, actually. Kind of reckless, yet sweet. But I think this sums you up quite well as a whole.” Geonhak says, pulling San back from his thoughts once more, thing for which the boy is definitely thankful for him. Every time he loses himself and indulges in ugly memories, there comes in Geonhak to remind him that those are just, as a matter of fact, memories.

“Yes -San says with a bitter smile- I guess you’re right. I tend to be quite reckless. As for the sweet part, I wouldn’t really know. There’s a lot about him that I have given for granted. I feel like I didn’t do enough to win him over every day. I feel like, had I been more dedicated, more caring, he would not have done what he did. You know, I have been thinking about it a lot, every single day of my life ever since it happened, and for as much as I am no more in love with him, I have been trying to make it make sense in my mind, and the only way it does is to blame myself for bringing him to make such a horrible thing.”

“San?” Geonhak calls him, opening up one of his eyes and immediately squinting it because of the scorching light of the sun setting.

“Uh?” San answers, looking at him.

“You’re very sweet. You’re a sensitive, kind, sweet person. You also are a hard working guy, and if you are just as half hard working in a relationship as you are in that book shop, I can assure you that makes you more than perfect as a boyfriend. Stop blaming yourself for your ex’s poor decisions. You are not the one to blame. The choice was up to him, and him only, you did not endorse it in any way. He could have just dumped you and then it would have been perfectly ok for him to hop from dick to dick like a fucking quokka. That’s what you do when you are don’t love someone anymore: you end the relationship, and then do whatever you want to do with your life. But what he did was brutal and extremely insulting towards you, because believe me, no one deserves to be treated like that. It’s like wanted to hurt you on purpose and, for as shitty as you could have been as partner, which I find very hard to believe, you’ll have to trust me on this one: you did not deserve that.” Geonhak speaks in such a calm yet resolved tone and he is so reasonable, understanding and wise that San would like to just curl up into his arms and feel once more the safety he felt in his studio on that night.

He decides to lay down as well, on the opposite side, his head lying next to Geonhak’s one, eyes closed as well, letting the wind caress his face and the sunrays lazily warming up his sharp features.

“I’m not that special, Geonhak… Trust me on this one, I’m not as special or as good as you think I am.” Whispers San, feeling guilty for whatever he might have done to make him believe anything like that. He doesn’t want Geonhak to think so high of him. He’ll only disappoint him.

“San, I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say, because I’m not going to say it again, ok? You are good. You are special. You are handsome. You are charming. You are funny. But most of all, you have a kind heart and pure feelings. That’s enough to make you one of the most precious human beings I’ve ever met in my entire life.” Geonhak softly speaks, keeping his eyes shut and breathing more and more heavily with every word that slips out of his mouth. San doesn’t need to look at him to know that it must be hard for him to speak his mind like that, to be aware that this one is a precious moment and that each one of his phrases needs to be carved in his mind, even deeper than the ink on his skin.

“Geonhak… Hyung… you’re being sappy now. I’m just a librarian, I have no skill. Besides having being cheated on, there’s nothing interesting about me or my life. I have no talents, unlike you, nor skills. I am not too smart, and there’s definitely plenty more interesting, charming, enticing people than me.” San sighs, turning his head towards Geonhak, looking at him with both sadness and endearment.

“Then explain something to me -Geonhak says in a scorching warm, deep, low whisper, turning his face around as well and softly smiling to him as he gets dangerously closer and closer, sparks in his eyes and wet, swollen lips- Why do I only want to do this with you?”

San’s eyelids flutter and his heart begins to race at a speed he couldn’t think would have ever been possible for it to reach.

He feels Geonhak nuzzling with the tip of his nose against his own and he chokes on his own breath, while for the second time that day he has to push back the tears, except for this time those being tears of pure happiness. San licks his lips instinctively, almost as in a conditioned reflex, impatiently waiting for the long forgotten warmth. He perceives Geonhak kissing with delicate pecks all along the straight line of his nose, before sliding towards his cupid’s bow and, after a second of hesitation, brushing his soft lips against San’s ones before pressing them together and enclosing them in a slow, fearful, emotional kiss. San quivers, starstruck, lost at first. He follows Geonhak’s gentle pace, letting him take control and lead the dance of their lips acquainting each other: there’s no need to rush. They have all the time in the world, or at least so it seems, as they get enveloped in what feels like a glimpse of eternity, with their hearts bursting at once like a firework show and their lips parting only to encounter each other again, more and more times, melting onto each other, brushing, biting, sucking one into the other in a lengthy waltz. Geonhak feels warm and gentle, like the sunset, bringing life back into San’s scarred heart. And San feels like the sea, slowly yet relentlessly cradling Geonhak into what feels like eternity. Their lips part and come back together with the perfect grace of waves brushing on the shore and embrace each other with the warmth with which sun rays caress the world. When the two of them open their eyes, San sees Geonhak trying to shy away from him once more, but this time he doesn’t stand and watch. This time he chases his softly blushing face and cups it with both of his small hands, making sure that Geonhak looks at him, before kissing him once more, and once more, and once more, tenderly, interspencing every kiss with a bright smile, a soft bite on Geonhak’s lips, a playful lick with the tip of his tongue. They laugh, they giggle, they smirk, a lot and wholeheartedly, allowing that enticed happiness to take over them, gravitating one towards the other, incapable to let go of any physical contact, always wanting more now that they’ve had a taste.

Then, after an uncountable amount of time spent snuggling and kissing on the grass, san shivers, thing which seems to amuse and endear Geonhak a great deal, since he giggles, shaking his head. 

“Cute!” Geonhak says, pulling San closer into a familiar, warm embrace that feels like home and kissing the top of his head, inhaling the sweet smell of his perfume. 

San curls up his hand against Geonhak’s chest and sinks into his arms, at long last safe. At long last belonging. 

“Still hungry, pretty?” He tenderly whispers in San’s ear, to which question San answers with a vigorous nod of his head.

“Ok then, let’s go. I know a cute place.”

“But! -Halts San, placing a finger over Geonhak’s lips- I’m still buying!” 

Geonhak rolls his eyes, pretending a non existent annoyance, before letting out a tired “Fine!”, to which San reacts gleefully hopping around and pulling Geonhak closer to throw his hands around the man’s neck.

“I’m so happy right now.” San mutters, with his head planted in the nape of Geonhak’s neck.

“I’m happy too… -Geonhak answers, his voice suddenly serious- ...But San, please, don’t be fooled by the way I look. I’m easily hurt. So please don’t play with me.”

From the very beginning, San had never thought that Geonhak could have had any heartbreak in his life, so his words hit him like a cold shower. There’s so much about him he has taken for granted. San swallows the knot in his throat, thinking about how that very attitude has been the ruin for his previous relationship.

“Whatever is hurting in you, I’ll do my best to mend it. I’m not here to play in any way. I promise.” San entwines his fingers with Geonhak’s ones and grabs his hand as tight as he can, giving him a soft, luminous smile. Then, they walk together to the restaurant, never letting go of that hold.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It takes San and Geonhak no time to find the right rhythm for their newborn relationship. San, whose work shift ends up earlier than Geonhak, takes the bus every day to pick him up at the Tattoo Studio and waits for him to finish working. Then, after closing time, Geonhak rides him on his glossy black Harley Davidson to a new place to eat every night. They talk a lot. They laugh and play with each other. They tell each other stories about their past, about their families, about their friends’ shenanigans. 

“Cupcake!” Screams San to Geonhak’s face, in the middle of the sidewalk, close to his home, mimicking Yunho’s way of speaking to Keonhee.

“Flowery spring breeze!” Retaliates Geonhak, fluttering his fingers on his cheeks, impersonating Keonhee.

“Little heart shaped chocolate praline!” San insists, biting the side of his boyfriend’s hand, probably with too much passion, since he can hear him muffle a pained sound in his mouth.

“Oh… Did I hurt you? Babe? Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry! Please tell me I didn’t hurt you!” San sprinkles the bitten flesh of Geonhak’s hand with kisses and serves him the infamous, irresistible kitten eyes.

“It’s ok, it’s ok, it’s nothing, little… Butternut squash?” Geonhak says, through the laughters.

“Butternut squash? Seriously?” Questions San, almost insulted by the most definitely unusual pet name.

“I’m sorry, it’s the first thing that came to mind and, to my defence, I don’t even know what a butternut squash is!” Geonhak replies, amused at his own silliness.

“It’s a goddamned pumpkin!” Screams San, dramatically pretending to feel insulted.

They laugh together until they arrive at the front door of San’s apartment. There, San walks one of the steps and turns around to lean against Geonhak, who welcomes him in the firm grip of his embrace, and kisses him, deeper and deeper, sucking his lips in his own, caressing his tongue and allowing his boyfriend’s one to slip inside his mouth and gently explore it.

Then, after a while, they part a few centimeters and brush their foreheads one against the other.

“Do you want to come in?” San asks, looking straight into Genhak’s eyes. It’s the first time he feels the desire to let anyone inside his apartment and that, for some reason, feels like the perfect time. Geonhak looks back at him, heart pounding in his chest and stomach twirling in a weird sense of excitement that makes him eager and anxious at the same time.

“Yes… -Geonhak whispers- Yes I do.”

The apartment is definitely in SAN’s fashion, that can be said. It’s quite small, yet more than enough for one person, maybe two at most. There’s a long hallway, with two doors per side: on the left, there is a nice, small, mint green kitchen, followed by a closed door, probably the bathroom, while on the opposite side there is a cosy living room, with a sofa stuffed with pillows and blankets, a tea table and a stereo, and the bedroom, peaking from the semi opened door. It’s small, yet welcoming, and no detail has been left to case, since everything inside the house seems to have been bought following a rigid pastel colour scheme, from the furniture to the home textiles, from the dishes to the frames for the pictures hang on the walls, from the knickknacks to the doorknobs, all the elements, even the most irrelevant ones, express a softness, a domesticity, a sense of relaxation and a reassuring serenity. San is everywhere, Geonhak observes. He must have done all of this after the end of his relationship and it sure must have required a lot of effort to create a house that feels like a shrine to self comfort and cosiness, without having a kitsch result: the whole environment, as a matter of fact, looks definitely tasteful and just the slightest bit naïf.

“I’m afraid there’s not much that I can offer you.” San suddenly realises that he hasn’t had the time to go shopping, resulting in an embarrassingly empty fridge. 

“I didn’t come here for a drink, you know -Says Geonhak, stepping closer to San and slipping his arms around his small waist, lowering his face enough to kiss his boyfriend’s earlobe- I came here for the dessert.” He proceeds to whisper, then goes back to lapping the skin of his neck, nibbling on it with his teeth, enough to feel San shivering and sighing under the touch of his lips and his hands, traveling on his back to pull him closer.

San lets him do his thing on him, surrendering to Geonhak’s burning kisses and to the blazing flames his tongue draws all over his neck and jaw. He likes being seduced, and God, Geonhak is beyond good at it. 

“You’re so beautiful San, so, so beautiful… So precious…” He whispers to him, lustfully, as he savours the skin around his collarbones and slides his hand under San’s shirt, sinking his fingers in his muscles, while San whimpers under his touch and runs his nails along his spine, scratching Geonhak’s skin, and hungrily bites his neck, leaving a flourishing of red and purple halos under the dark lines of ink on his skin. 

Stumbling into pieces of furniture and giggling as they can’t seem to let go of each other, not even for a second, they reach for the bedroom, where an eager and riled up San pushes Geonhak on his bed, and this time it’s his turn to allow San to take over.

The small fingers of the boy slide under the hems of Geonhak’s shirt, pulling it up and taking it off to admire his beautifully sculpted torso, while he makes room for himself by opening up the thick thighs of the man with a subtle, sensual movement of his knees. San indulges on Geonhak’s body, tracing the lines of all those tattoos he had never seen with the tip of his tongue and grabbing onto the muscular shoulder of his lovers, he moves smoothly, lower and lower, taking care of not leaving even one inch of that gorgeous body untouched or unkissed, in a slow yet avid ritual of pure adoration, in an almost religious rapture, where he cannot afford to neglect a single part of him. 

As San gets lower and lower, Geonhak’s sighs only rile him up more. The way he tosses under San’s breath, how he whimpers at his nails digging his skin with feral desire, how he quivers with anticipation when San starts to fumble with the belt of his jeans, how he sighs with small relief when he releases him from the unbearable tight cage of his jeans, the way Geonhak bites his lips to choke the otherwise loud moans he would let out... All of this is the most erotic sight San has ever had the honor to lay his eyes upon, and even though he most definitely wants to take his time glorifying Geonhak’s body and to prove him his completely devoted adoration, his mind is on the verge of losing any form of control when he hears the profound, masculine, rough voice of his lover begging for him to take him.

“Sanie… Please…” Geonhak manages to mutter, eyes glossy with tears of pure desire wetting his lashes and dark irises burning up with need.

“Yes, precious?” San softly asks, planting an uncountable number of kisses and bite marks on his inner thighs, as he firmly grabs around his hips and lets his fingers slip under the fabric of his underwear. “How can I please you?”

“I need… I need you to take me… Please angel, I need you so much…” Geonhak mewls, looking so vulnerable and delicate that San can’t help but comply to his wish, pulling down his boxers and delicately working around his entrance with the sweetest kisses and the gentlest caresses, making sure that nothing is rushed and putting his beloved’s pleasure before anything else, even though he’s been aching for him for so long. 

Under the irresistible relish induced by the way San cares for him, Geonhak pushes his head backwards, completely captivated, surrendering all of his defenses to him and being pervaded by the most intense pleasure he’s ever felt. The warmth of San’s tongue makes him melt and the delicacy of the way his fingers slip into him make him sigh as his body uncontrollably shakes, so much that he needs to grasp around the bed sheets as hard as he can to hold himself together, and yet he’s not nearly ready to the wave of pure arousal and bliss that invests him as soon as San eventually pushes his hard shaft inside of him, slowly, making sure he gets to savour every inch of it, which Geonhak embraces with all of himself, wrapping his legs around San’s waist and pulling him towards himself and into his arms.

His thrusts are slow, at first, and careful, only starting to push deeper and harder as he feels Geonhak loosening up and following them with the waving movements of his hips.

The more San gives him his all, putting all of his effort and his devotion into pleasing Geonhak at the best of his faculties, the heavier Geonhak’s breath gets, to the point that San can feel him becoming more and more impatient through the moans and the mewls he lets slip from his wet lips in sighs.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful.” Smugly says San, delighted at the way he sees him slowly melt down under his increasingly more vehement pushes restlessly making way inside of him, only to abruptly deciding to slow back down his rhythm, inducing Geonhak’s drive to only increase as he tries to force him to go back to a faster pace with the way he impatiently swings his hips under him, chasing a satisfaction that San just doesn’t want to give him yet.

“Eager much?” San asks with a sly knowing smile on his lips, as he leans in for a kiss, except for actually biting Geonhak’s lower lip and sucking it in his mouth.

“Mh-hm...” A suffering verse and a begging nod are all he gets out of Geonhak’s as an answer, who looks at him, with tearful eyes that silently implore him, mouth gasping and struggling to form words that die in his throat, suffocated by overeager whines.

“Look at how gorgeous you are -Observes San, standing straight, still slowly moving inside of him, pushing him to his limit, as he caresses Geonhak’s length, delightfully glazed in dripping fluids, which San cannot wait to taste- The most gorgeous. The most handsome. The most desirable.” Each of his phrases is punctuated by a forceful thrust of his hips, making Geonhak moan, out of control, edged on the subtle line between unbearable pain and unprecedented pleasure, only seeking for release.

San feels it by the way Geonhak rawly clenches his strong fingers on the smooth, soft skin of his back, pulling him closer every time he slightly slips a little further, trying to feel him more, harder, faster: his darling is on the brink of tears and, to be fair, so is he.

“My darling, my beauty, let me please you, will you?” He asks with honey coated voice to an increasingly more worn out Geonhak, who just cannot take the edging anymore.

Just as suddenly he has slowed down, now San increases his pace once again with a drive he has probably never experienced before, feeling a burning appeasement he has never really hit with anyone else, motivated by Geonhak’s expression, who looks lost in an ecstatic state as he receives every single one of his thrusts with progressively louder moans and digging in the flesh of San’s hips with his fingers more and more ferally, until the both of them end up reaching the peak of the spiral of pleasure they’ve been chasing together.

Geonhak is like the sun, he is scorching hot, and San wants to get closer, he needs to get closer, and races to catch him, to feel him his own with every thrust, with every touch, with every kiss, until he can’t take no more, until he feels himself burst deep inside of him, consumed by the fire Geonhak lit up inside his soul. And San, San is like the sea. Pervasive, deep, intense, overwhelming, so much that Geonhak can only surrender and let himself be filled up with him, body and soul, and overflow all over him in waves of lust.

Eventually, the two of them collapse one onto the other, gasping for air as their thunderous heartbeats pound at once through their chests. They lay down like that, in absolute silence, recollecting their thoughts and emotions, invisibly scattered all over the place, until San shivers, suddenly hit by a wave of cold, so that Geonhak picks him up in his arms to tuck him under the soft duvet and lays next to him, comforted by its warmth and the softness, caressing with his fingertips the curves of San’s face in quiet contemplation. There’s a serenity in his expression that he has never seen before, he thinks, as he sinks his hand in San’s soft locks, with a spontaneous, fond smile. 

“What?” San asks, smiling back, as a pink blush flushes his cheeks.

“Nothing -Answers Geonhak, taking his time to lean down and cover in delicate pecks the beautiful constellation of freckles sprinkled on San’s neck, while still cressing his hair with one hand- I was just thinking that… I love this.” He says, as soon as he gets back up to place a kiss on his lover’s lips. 

“I love you.” Geonhak admits, while hiding away his eyes from San, cursing himself for being so stupidly reckless, yet he can’t keep them away for too long, looking for an answer, wearing the most vulnerable expression on his face, paralyzed by the sudden fright to have his fragile heart broken.

San pulls himself a little bit higher on his pillows and places his hands around Geonhak’s face, cupping it and brushing away a tear that slips from his pitch black eyes, escaped from the grip of his long lashes. San perceives his heart clenching at the sight of the defenselessness of Geonhak, touched by his astounding pureness, sensing an overwhelming need to protect him from all harm. He pulls him into his arms and wraps them around him, letting Geonhak sink his face onto his chest, as he covers his head with soft kisses.

“I love you too, precious.” San whispers, holding him as close as he humanly can.

Then, cradling each other into a loving embrace, they fall asleep.

Just as easily as they’ve been falling for each other.

Just as the sun rays fall into the sea’s deep waters.


End file.
